


The Chosen One

by secretsolarsystem



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin and Ahsoka are the same age, Anakin was raised at the Temple, M/M, Masturbation, Obi-Wan is not Anakin's master, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, i guess, longing and yearning. all the good stuff, oh yeah and uh, they're buds who relentlessly torture each other. friendship!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28444818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsolarsystem/pseuds/secretsolarsystem
Summary: Anakin’s heart dropped into his stomach. There was really no reason he should be so upset that Master Koon wanted to take him on as a padawan. Koon was known for his level-headedness and phenomenal leadership even under distress, was a skilled combatant and an excellent pilot, and Anakin had only ever known him to be wise, patient, and compassionate.He had, however, one fatal flaw: he wasn’t Obi-Wan Kenobi.(or: the time that the Chosen One was not chosen by the one he wanted)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Plo Koon & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 58
Kudos: 195





	1. Initiate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my Obi-Wan-is-not-Anakin's-master-much-to-Anakin's-dismay au! this first chapter is mainly set-up, but I hope it's still enjoyable!
> 
> ALSO! I want to note that while Anakin is young and pining in this chapter, there will be NO underage sex! the explicit rating is for later in the story where Anakin will be older.

Anakin had skimmed over the transcript possibly a hundred, or even a thousand times. He was too young to remember much of when Qui-Gon Jinn had rescued him from slavery on Tatooine, being only about three; nevertheless, each time he read over the transcripts from the day Qui-Gon brought him to the Temple, he felt as if he knew the man personally.

 _“With your permission, my master…”_ Qui-Gon’s words read. Anakin had been told he had a deep, calming voice. _“I have encountered a vergence in the Force.”_

Anakin didn’t have to guess as to how Master Yoda’s gravelly, odd voice sounded as he repeated, _“A vergence, you say.”_

 _“Located around a person?”_ Anakin could only hear Master Mace Windu’s voice as skeptical, tired. It was the only way he knew the man to be - when it came to himself, at least.

 _“A boy.”_ This was where Anakin’s heart always raced, to know that he was the boy in question. _“His cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have seen in a life form. It is possible he was conceived by the midi-chlorians.”_ Anakin remembered that he had a mother but no father, though he never knew it was because there had been no father in the first place - hence the theory that he was conceived by the Force itself.

Mace’s disbelieving voice rang through Anakin’s head once more as he read on. _“You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force. You believe it’s this boy?”_ Anakin knew the prophecy well, the prophecy of the Chosen One. Throughout his years at the Temple, he learned about it from what the masters would tell him and whatever Jocasta Nu could find in the archives. He may be young to be so enthralled by such a concept, but everyone believed it to be him, so he might as well know it well.

 _“I don’t presume to-”_ Qui-Gon began.

 _“But you do,”_ Yoda cut him off. _“Revealed, your opinion is.”_

Goosebumps raised along Anakin’s skin, as they always did at this point in the transcript. He imagined Qui-Gon - using the few holograms he had managed to get his hands on and the descriptions he begged out of anyone who knew the Jedi as reference - standing tall and defiant before the scrutinizing eyes of the Council. _“Finding him was the will of the Force. I have no doubt of that,”_ he declared. And that was where the transcript ended.

Despite the dryness in his eyes, Anakin couldn’t tear them away from the screen before him. He drank in every word as if he was committing them to memory even though he already had long ago. Just as he was reaching the end of the transcript once more, two hands grasped his shoulders from behind and made him practically jump out of his skin.

“Calm down, Skyguy, it’s just me,” the figure spoke behind him, eye roll evident in her tone. Anakin turned to scowl at the Togruta; it didn’t matter that she was his only friend in the Temple, she was still a menace.

“You could have scared me to _death_ ,” he accused. “I literally could have _died_ just now.” This time, Anakin was gifted with the sight of Ahsoka’s eye roll as she released her hold on him and took a step back from his chair.

“No need to be so dramatic. You’re already a narcissist,” she huffed, gesturing to the screen in front of Anakin. When Ahsoka had first learned that Qui-Gon had saved Anakin and then died shortly after, she was empathetic and treated the issue with caution. Now, after years of knowing Anakin and hearing about the transcript practically every other day, she only teased him endlessly - because, as she argued, he ‘deserved it,’ whatever that meant.

“What do you want, Snips?” he asked, wanting to continue with his reading in peace, a state impossible to reach with Ahsoka around.

“I’ve come to acquire you and take you back to the crèche,” she answered. “We have a big day tomorrow, Skyguy, and you desperately need your beauty rest.” She leaned down to place a soothing hand on his shoulder, a pitying look on her face. “Jocasta Nu says if she has to see your ugly face one more time, she’s leaving the Order.”

With an offended huff, Anakin shut his screen down and stood to stalk out of the library. Ahsoka was right - not about him being ugly, _thank you very much_ , but about tomorrow. They were to finally partake in their Initiate Trials to see if they could progress onto being a padawan learner. Anakin couldn’t wait to become a padawan, simply because he couldn’t wait to become a knight. He was so tired of Temple life, all the rules and lessons and schedules. He longed to travel to far and distant worlds where he could meet new and interesting people and battle for justice.

“Oh, and did you hear?” Ahsoka asked, jogging to catch up so she could walk beside Anakin.

“What, that you crashed another ship in training last week?” Anakin asked, smirking at her.

“Uh, as I recall, that was _you_ ,” she retorted, causing Anakin to scowl once more. Although he would never admit it, perhaps he was mistaken; he vaguely recalled a concussion from around the same time he heard the crash had occurred… “I’m talking about the fact that your boyfriend’s gonna be at the Trials tomorrow. Sounds like he’s shopping for a padawan of his own.”

Anakin’s face turned beet red at the words, both out of embarrassment and excitement. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he muttered, trying to sound annoyed and not saddened by the fact. Much to his distress, it had become well known among the other initiates that Anakin was rather… _fond_ of Jedi knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.

How could he not be? Qui-Gon Jinn was possibly the closest thing Anakin had ever had to a father, even though their time together was fleeting and Anakin could barely remember it, and Obi-Wan had been Qui-Gon’s padawan. Anakin knew the story by heart of how Obi-Wan had accompanied Qui-Gon to Naboo to safely escort the planet’s queen back home after dropping Anakin off at the Temple; of how, while there, the master and his apprentice had encountered and battled with a Sith that took Qui-Gon’s life before Obi-Wan’s eyes; and how the then-padawan slayed the Sith alone, earning him the title of Jedi Knight. It was impossible not to admire the man who avenged his master, a man as great as Qui-Gon Jinn, by single-handedly killing a Sith. That alone made Obi-Wan a hero in Anakin’s eyes.

In the years following Master Jinn’s death, Obi-Wan had become the paradigm of the perfect Jedi, and he was the most charming being Anakin had ever encountered in his eleven years of life. The knight was well known for his charismatic diplomacy skills, earning him the moniker The Negotiator; it truly seemed as though there was no argument he couldn’t mediate, no treaty he couldn’t broker, no skirmish he couldn’t quell with his words alone. When words failed, however, Obi-Wan was equally as skilled with his lightsaber, devastating his enemies with his mastered Soresu and other forms when necessary.

The rumors and stories surrounding the famous Obi-Wan Kenobi enthralled Anakin to no end. He had heard from several people that Obi-Wan was able to mediate for hours undisturbed, seeming to communicate with the Force openly and freely. Anakin wouldn’t be surprised if the Force moved itself to accommodate Obi-Wan, if it begged him to manipulate it. Ahsoka even claimed to have once seen Obi-Wan in such deep mediation that he was _floating_ a few inches off the ground. Anakin called banthashit, of course, but part of him believed it to be true; to him, there was very little Obi-Wan couldn’t do.

It also didn’t help that the few, brief times Anakin had encountered the man directly, he was infinitely kind and patient. Most often, the two interacted when Obi-Wan stopped by the crèche to offer his help with instruction. To Anakin’s teachers’ annoyance, the only time he paid attention to any of his non-physical lessons was when Obi-Wan taught them. Something about his easy demeanor and soothing Courscanti accent made Anakin want to listen, to do well, to impress.

Just last week, Obi-Wan had helped instruct lightsaber stances, much to Anakin’s delight. He reveled in the chance to see Obi-Wan display his competence with the weapon, with balanced feet and strong arms and powerful yet graceful movements. He was exactly the Jedi Anakin wanted to be.

As Anakin went through the moves as instructed, he must have placed his foot at the wrong angle, for he lost his balance and barely kept himself from toppling to the floor. He immediately flushed with embarrassment as Ahsoka and the other initiates snickered at his mistake. Obi-Wan, however, approached him with a kind, encouraging smile.

“You did wonderfully, young one,” the knight spoke, his voice a balm for Anakin’s soul. “Resume the beginning stance. I’ll help you with that one step.” Flushing under the man’s focused gaze, Anakin nodded and did as he was told. He did his best to perform each movement as well as Obi-Wan had, to show him that he was skilled, that he was a good pupil under the right tutelage - under Obi-Wan’s tutelage.

When he reached the step that had caused him to slip up, Obi-Wan held up his hand and Anakin paused. The knight knelt down and corrected the angle of his back foot, then stood to straighten Anakin’s shoulders and raise his elbows to the appropriate height for the stance. Anakin could barely hear Obi-Wan explaining why the angle of the back foot was vital for balance over the pounding of blood in his ears. He felt a thrill at the hands-on training from Obi-Wan himself, at his praise and encouragement.

He knew that the knight was older than him, and that they were heavily distanced by rank, but he also know that Obi-Wan’s auburn hair shone like a flame when the sun hit it, and he knew that Obi-Wan’s blue eyes were in fact gray-blue unlike Anakin’s blue-blue. He knew that Obi-Wan was funny, and confident, and intelligent; and now he _also_ knew that Obi-Wan’s hands were calloused and that he smelled like Jogan fruit. And, Anakin found it important to note, he knew that reaching the rank of Jedi Knight would make him Obi-Wan’s equal, until the knight became a master. Even then, knights and masters were much closer in status than initiates and knights.

It was clear from that day on that Anakin liked Obi-Wan, _a lot_ , and everyone could tell. Anakin couldn’t even deny it convincingly, and for that Ahsoka teased him endlessly.

“Either way,” she continued as they made their trek down the Temple halls, “he’ll be there tomorrow. Watching. Watching _you_ ,” she warned ominously, making Anakin swallow. Then, in a cheery tone, she added, “But, you know, no pressure.”

With a scoff, Anakin opened the door to his quarters, turning to Ahsoka. “He’ll be watching you, too,” he reminded, ignoring the pang of jealousy that filled him at the words.

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him, so I think I’ll be able to keep my cool,” Ahsoka said confidently. “Besides, I’m hoping someone _fun_ like Master Koon or _cool_ like Master Unduli will pick me.”

Anakin bristled at the insult, even though it wasn’t directed towards him - for once. “Obi-Wan’s _fun_ and _cool_ ,” he defended.

Ahsoka snorted, turning to her own quarters and throwing a skeptical, “Whatever you say, Skyguy,” over her shoulder. Despite the annoyance that hummed in his being at the demeaning words towards Obi-Wan, Anakin couldn’t help but feel relieved that Ahsoka didn’t also have her sights set on earning him as her master.

* * *

“Ready, are you, to begin your Trials?” Master Yoda questioned from his seat. Anakin’s hands were balled into fists as he looked around at the seemingly never ending circle of eyes focused on him. His breath caught and face flushed when he caught Obi-Wan’s gaze, and he snapped his head to face Yoda once more.

 _Don’t kark this up_ , he begged the Force, begged himself. With a deep breath, he nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Very well,” Yoda nodded. “Recite the Jedi Code, if you will.”

Oh, yes, the Jedi Code that made little sense to Anakin. Fortunately, for the sake of his Trials, he only really needed to memorize it, not understand it. “There is no emotion, there is peace.” Peace was hard to come by and hold onto for Anakin, whereas felt emotion all the time: he was sad for his mother he barely knew, left alone in slavery on a desert planet; he often grew frustrated when he couldn’t grasp certain lessons; he felt pride every time he earned a compliment from the knights or masters; he felt annoyance whenever Ahsoka talked; he felt excitement whenever Obi-Wan looked his way or spoke to him or stood near him…

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge,” he continued. Speaking from personal experience, Anakin knew that was false. He was ignorant of many things, and lacked knowledge in many areas - his teachers were quick to tell him so. And if there was no ignorance, then how could inequities and cruelties exist throughout the galaxy? If there was only knowledge, then how come there was a lack of medicine for those dying of rare diseases or solutions yet to be found for the greatest problems?

“There is no passion, there is serenity.” Anakin was passionate about becoming a knight, he was passionate about protecting his fellow Jedi, he was passionate about bringing peace and justice to the galaxy.

“There is no chaos, there is harmony.” Mace Windu often referred to Anakin as ‘chaos incarnate,’ so that was either a flaw in the Code or Windu’s judgement - both very plausible possibilities.

The last tenet of the Code was the one Anakin wanted to understand the most, wanted to believe, wanted to find solace in, and yet it was just more words to him. “There is no death,” he exhaled, “there is the Force.”

With a subtle nod, Yoda continued on. “The robe, give to young Skywalker, Master Windu.” Anakin felt his shoulders sag in relief; he knew that after the Code, he would be tested on his ability to focus by either meditating or engaging in combat whilst blinded. He was grateful that it was the latter, seeing as he was terrible at meditation. _Maybe I’ll get better at it_ , he thought to himself, _once Obi-Wan becomes my master_.

Windu stood and stalked forward, his expression neutral as he placed the robe on Anakin’s shoulders. “Raise the hood and use it to cover your eyes,” he instructed. His tone was how it normally was whenever he spoke to Anakin: already exasperated and with little patience for Anakin’s signature style of disobedience. Wanting to pass the Trials and wanting to show just Obi-Wan how dutiful he could be, however, made Anakin nod and pull the hood over his eyes as instructed.

“This test,” Windu continued, “is to test your ability to not only use the Force to make you aware of your surroundings, but to test your faith in the Force’s guidance. And, of course,” he spoke as he gently grabbed Anakin’s hand and placed what he knew was a practice ‘saber in it, “your competency with a lightsaber.” He listened as Windu took his seat once more; so he wouldn’t be sparring with Windu, it seemed.

Biting back a confident smirk, Anakin nodded as he powered on the ‘saber and entered the beginning stance of Shii-Cho. He personally found the form rather boring and basic, but all initiates were expected to master it before moving onto other preferred forms. (Anakin also may have been more receptive to using Shii-Cho after Obi-Wan revealed to his class that he often relied on the dependable form in many times of combat.)

Seconds or minutes went by, Anakin couldn’t tell, as he waited impatiently for his opponent to make themselves known. Just as he was going to ask if something was wrong, he felt a sudden shift in the Force and raised his ‘saber to block an overhead swing. A thrill ran through his body just as it did every time he sparred; Anakin thrived on physical exertion, seeing as it was the only way he seemed to be able to find any kind of balance or peace.

His inability to do so without working his body to exhaustion often make Anakin doubt his title of Chosen One, along with just about everything else he did or wasn’t able to do.

He parried his partner for several minutes, maybe even an hour, blocking blow after blow. Anakin felt rather proud of himself for lasting so long, and his confidence only grew each time he was able to manage an offensive blow of his own.

When his ‘saber locked with that of his opponent, neither backing down, Yoda’s gravelly voice ordered, “Stop.” Immediately, Anakin and his opponent powered down their ‘sabers, and Anakin could feel them return his bow. “Remove the hood, you may,” Yoda allowed. When Anakin did, he had to squint at the sudden onslaught of light, but he was able to catch Ki-Adi-Mundi taking his seat and catching his breath. _I lasted against Mundi!_ Anakin thought proudly to himself.

Glancing around the circle, Anakin was met with several features schooled into neutrality. Some Jedi, however, were nodding as though deep in thought, such as Shaak Ti and Plo Koon. Others, such as Depa Billaba and Mundi himself, allowed the corners of their mouths to quirk up into small smiles. The expression he was most anxious and eager to see, though, was Obi-Wan’s. When he finally looked at the knight, the expression that greeted him was one that was pleasantly surprised, and even impressed. The raise in his eyebrows and the thoughtful way he stroked his chin with one hand sent a thrill through Anakin.

Not wanting to get caught staring, Anakin whipped his head around to face Yoda once more. “Know you to be the supposed Chosen One, we do,” Yoda said with narrowed eyes. “But test your strength in the Force, we still must.” Anakin nodded in understanding, awaiting his final test with a racing heart. “Close your eyes. Look in, look out. What do you see?”

 _Look in, look out?_ Anakin had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at Yoda’s typical vagueness that left one more confused than they were before. Closing his eyes, Anakin tried to look in and out - whatever that meant - and focused on the Force that constantly thrummed loudly around him. Whether or not he was the Chosen One was up for debate, but his being more susceptible to the Force was not. The main reason Anakin struggled so much with meditation was because he was constantly bombarded by the Force every second of every day, so to open himself up even _more_ to that was deafening, exhausting.

It was necessary, though, for him to reach out to the Force now, if he was to pass his Trials. He did his best to sift through the sounds, sights, and various sensations that crashed into him. “Colors,” he began. Furrowing his brow in concentration, he tried to identify what he was being shown. “Blue, bright blue, like a lightsaber. Wait - two lightsabers.” The shapes were fuzzy and incomplete, the images fading as quickly as they appeared. “There is a shape, a… circle? It is whole, but it’s made up of two pieces.” He couldn’t tell if he was explaining it well at all, but he did his best. “And there is a… warmth, a… I don’t, I can’t-” He struggled to find the words, to understand the shapes. He could not tell if these were symbols of the past, present, future, or nothing to do with reality at all.

“Open your eyes, you may,” Yoda hummed, much to Anakin’s relief. He blinked them open, once more having to adjust to the brightness of the room before him. His body relaxed as he raised his shields once more, dampening the loud cries of the Force around him.

Pensive eyes stared back at Anakin as he waited for anyone to say something. While many had shown their approval of his abilities, they all now wore serious expressions as they waited for the Grand Master’s ruling - even Obi-Wan’s kind features were held in neutrality.

After eons of holding his breath in anticipation, Yoda finally declared, “Passed the Initiate Trials, you have.” While he kept himself from jumping and hollering, Anakin was unable to prevent the large smile that overtook his face. “A padawan learner, you will be. Patience, you must now exercise, until someone takes you on as their apprentice.” With those words and two definitive taps of his walking staff, his Trials were over and the Jedi were excused.

On his way out, many of the knights and masters gave him their congratulations. He beamed up at each one, thanking them sincerely, buzzing with pride and excitement. When a hand grasped his shoulder with a firm grip, he spun around and choked on his breath to see the hand belonged to Obi-Wan.

“Very well done, young one,” he praised, making heat rush to Anakin’s cheeks. Gracing him with a kind smile, he added, “You are going to be a very promising padawan.” With a final squeeze to his shoulder, Obi-Wan left Anakin to stand in the halls to collect his thoughts.

There was no way with such a statement that Obi-Wan wasn’t going to take Anakin on as his padawan, there was no way! Anakin couldn’t believe how well the day had gone, and he only hoped that Obi-Wan wouldn’t take to long to officially ask him. Holding his head up high and with a new vigor in his step, Anakin made his way to the dining hall; he decided that he deserved a treat for getting Obi-Wan to smile at him like that.

* * *

Days passed, and Anakin was still without a master. It helped that even though Ahsoka passed her own Trials, she also lacked a master of her own. The two of them sulked together over it, and often guessed as to who would pick them.

“I mean, Obi-Wan _did_ say that I did well and that I was promising,” he pointed out as they made their way to the dining hall.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to pick you. Even if he did, he’d be tired of you in minutes, what with your longing gazes and inability to fall into a basic meditative state.”

Scowling in offense, Anakin was about to retort that he didn’t _gaze longingly_ at Obi-Wan, but was cut off by Master Plo Koon approaching them.

“Hello, young ones,” Koon nodded to each of them. They offered short bows in return, waiting for him to continue. “If you are not headed anywhere of urgency, Skywalker, I would appreciate a moment of your time.”

Anakin and Ahsoka shot each other confused looks before Ahsoka shrugged. “See ya later, Skyguy,” she said and continued towards the dining hall.

Having experience with masters stopping him and wanting to speak privately, Anakin was unaffected as he bluntly asked, “Am I in trouble?”

With a curious tilt of his head, Koon asked in return, “Should you be?”

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Anakin answered, “No,” in the least convincing way possible.

“Then no,” Koon relented, bringing his head back up. “I have come to speak to you in regards to your Trials. Very impressive indeed.”

Anakin’s heart dropped into his stomach. _No, no, no, not him!_ There was really no reason Anakin should be so upset that Master Koon wanted to take him on as a padawan - because that’s what this had to be about. Koon was known for his level-headedness and phenomenal leadership even under distress. He was a skilled combatant and an excellent pilot, which would suit Anakin’s interests to a tee. While he was like most masters - boring, rigid, set in the ways of the Code - Anakin had only ever known Master Koon to be wise, patient, and compassionate.

He had, however, one fatal flaw: he wasn’t Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Anakin considered saying no, of turning down Koon’s offer. He could wait it out, see if Obi-Wan would eventually approach him and ask him instead. But Anakin knew he couldn’t say no. Firstly, it would be incredibly disrespectful to turn down the generous offer simply because Koon wasn’t his first choice. Secondly, if Koon were to ask why, Anakin could think of no valid reason to give that wouldn’t end in his humiliation. Thirdly, saying no could rob Anakin of his only chance to be a padawan; Koon could be the only one willing to take him on, willing to lead Anakin along the path to becoming a knight. As much as it pained him, Anakin had to consider that even if he was still available, Obi-Wan may never ask him.

So, with a heavy heart, Anakin nodded and gave Master Koon his thanks.

“If you would be willing to accept me as your master, I would like to take you on as my padawan learner,” Koon said. While Anakin should have leapt with joy at the words, his heart only seemed to sink lower.

Nevertheless, Anakin bowed respectfully and told the floor, “It would be my honor, Master Koon.”

“Excellent,” Koon said, and even though his face was hidden behind a mask, Anakin could hear his smile. “I will soon be in touch with information regarding your confirmation as my padawan and our moving into shared quarters.” With parting nods, Anakin kept his eyes trained forward as Koon walked past Anakin down the halls.

After long, sad minutes of wallowing in his regret and disappointment, Anakin dragged his feet to the dining hall. Koon did not deserve such an ungrateful youngling as his padawan, but the loss of any chance of Obi-Wan being his master made it difficult for Anakin to see the blessing that Koon’s offer was.

Taking a heavy seat beside Ahsoka, Anakin propped his elbows onto the table and dropped his head into his hands.

“Woah, you okay?” Ahsoka asked, turning to face him. With a cringe, she inquired, “Did he tell you that you smell too bad to be a Jedi? I tried to tell you, Skyguy-”

“He asked me to be his padawan,” Anakin cut her off, not in the mood for her usual teasing.

Without looking at her, Anakin could sense Ahsoka’s confusion. “Why do you look like someone just killed your loth-cat, then? Koon’s one of the best masters. He’s nice and he’s fun and he likes to fly. Maybe you’ll finally become a good pilot instead of just a fast one.” All Anakin could offer was a shrug, not wanting to get teased for his melodramatic dismay over not being asked by Obi-Wan.

After a few moments of hesitation, Ahsoka softly started, “Actually, it’s a, uh, strange coincidence that he asked you that.” The way her amused tone was obviously forced raised Anakin’s hackles, and he listened intently as she continued. “While you two were talking, someone actually asked me to be their padawan, too.”

Anakin’s head snapped up and he turned to look at Ahsoka. The caution in her voice and the apology in her features told Anakin exactly who had asked her. For being the supposed Chosen One ordained by the Force itself, Anakin sure did feel like the universe got pleasure out of being cruel to him, specifically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor Ani, guess that means he needs to stop pining after Obi-Wan... JK!
> 
> I did very half-assed research into the process of becoming a padawan and just kinda ran with it so I hope it made sense lol. I hope this chapter was enjoyable, explained the au well enough, and set the right vibe for this short(?) fic. the next chapters will be more...fun :)))
> 
> feel free to comment and let me know what you think so far!!


	2. Padawan: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! thank you so much for your kudos and kind comments! it was daunting to continue seeing as people were looking forward to what would happen next but... here she is! enjoy :)

“One day,” Master Koon said, tone cool and flat, “you are going to roll your eyes out of their sockets.”

With a scoff, Anakin rolled his eyes.

“See? I was right,” Koon said, regarding the floor. “ _Pop_ , right onto the floor. Quick, if you run as fast as you talk back, perhaps you can catch them.”

Anakin huffed. Six - _long_ \- years of being Koon’s padawan enabled Anakin to know just from the Kel Dor’s voice alone that he was smirking. Koon liked to make such quips, a lot. Anakin rarely laughed, seeing as most were at his expense.

At the beginning of his apprenticeship, Anakin had tried his best to be the best padawan he was capable of being: he listened to Koon’s teachings with an attentive ear, he took his advice seriously and adapted to his master’s liking, and executed each order with the most precision he could muster. Koon had always been willing to encourage, even praise Anakin, and was infinitely patient with his questions and shortcomings.

He was not, however, infinitely patient with Anakin’s growing disobedience.

After a while, it was hard for Anakin to maintain his efforts to be Koon’s perfect padawan. To Anakin, Koon’s teachings became endless lectures, his advice criticisms and voiced disappointments, his orders tedious chores with little purpose. Even Koon’s patience had become unbearable; instead of feeling respected and listened to, Anakin felt pitied and _tolerated_.

Admittedly, this was not the fault of Master Koon himself. It was the fault of the times Anakin and Koon entered the training halls only to see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka running drills. It was the fault of the fact that Anakin mainly got to hear Obi-Wan’s stories through Ahsoka’s telling of them. It was the fault of how much of an outsider Anakin felt in Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s quarters, always filled with warmth and the smell of tea.

Despite the misery it caused him, Anakin found any excuse to sneak away from his master to be with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka instead. The fact that he had been friends with Ahsoka since the crèche made the common reoccurrence less suspect, but Koon still shook his head with a sigh every time he had to drag Anakin away from the other Jedi’s quarters.

Anakin always argued it was because he simply missed spending time with Ahsoka, but both he and Ahsoka knew that wasn’t the whole truth. If Anakin couldn’t live with Obi-Wan, he would simply spend as much time in the man’s home as possible. More often than not, Obi-Wan wasn’t home, but Anakin could still soak up the man’s lingering Force signature; bright, warm, golden. For some reason, the knight’s signature brought a sort of peace to Anakin as it embraced him like a blanket. Of course, Anakin kept this to himself whenever he and Ahsoka watched holofilms or played sabac, and claimed instead that he was there because he couldn’t stand another one of Koon’s lectures.

He knew Koon didn’t deserve such disrespect, such insolence, but it was hard for Anakin to devote himself to a master when he already felt he belonged to another. His fascination with Obi-Wan did not dwindle throughout his years as a padawan; if anything, it grew stronger. As a young boy, Anakin had admired Obi-Wan’s charm and competency, and longed to be his student. Now, as a young adult, Anakin wanted Obi-Wan’s smiles and laughs to be for him, for his hands to guide Anakin, for his eyes to be on him always, for his melodious voice to sing Anakin’s praises alone.

Simply put, Anakin _wanted_ Obi-Wan.

Bowing before the master he got instead, Anakin grumbled, “Sorry, Master,” most insincerely.

“No apologies needed, my padawan,” Koon said with a wave of his hand. _Tolerance_. “Simply resume the beginning stance.”

With a groan, Anakin stood back up to his full height. He had grown considerably in the last few years, but Koon still managed to stand a few inches over him. That, of course, annoyed Anakin, too. “But, Master, shouldn’t I be mastering a form by now? I’m so much better at Djem So-”

“A wonderful form,” Koon cut him off with an approving nod, clasping his hands behind his back and walking around Anakin in a slow circle. Anakin hated when he did that; he knew some sort of smart comment was coming. “It allows for excellent offense after a swift defense.” Koon came to stand just before Anakin once more. “But do you know what it does not allow for?”

Before Anakin could even open his mouth to respond, Koon’s lightsaber was ignited and swinging at Anakin fiercely. Anakin had to scramble to ignite his own, quickly falling into the aforementioned defensive stance of Djem So. Blue crashed against blue as Anakin parried his master’s blows, and he had to take step after step back as Koon pressed on.

Finally, Anakin spotted an opening for his own strike, which he took eagerly. Koon blocked it, of course, but Anakin much preferred to be on the offensive. Still, Koon met each blow with powerful blocks that kept pushing Anakin farther and farther back. Eventually, Anakin found himself pressed up against the wall as his master continued his relentless attack.

Seeing no way out, Anakin had to go on the defense again. Sweat dripped from his hairline, and his breath was coming out hard and fast. “M-Master Koon, I can’t-”

Seemingly at the sound of Anakin’s distress, Koon finally settled into his final blow, bringing his lightsaber down and forcing Anakin to hold it against his own just above his neck. As their movements ceased into this final stance, Koon finally answered his own question: “It does not allow much movement.” With that, he stood back and powered down his lightsaber.

Exhaling in disbelief, Anakin did the same and stood away from the wall. “You could have just _told_ me that instead of nearly _cutting off my head!_ ” he whined not at all petulantly.

“Ah,” a voice spoke, and the single syllable sent a wave of heat through Anakin. “But showing is always so much more effective.”

With a blush on his cheeks, Anakin immediately bowed to Obi-Wan, utterly embarrassed that the knight surely just saw him lose and then whine about it. When he rose to stand upright once more, he was met with Obi-Wan’s amused smirk. The knight had grown his hair out of the awful padawan style Anakin now wore (although Anakin had always thought that Obi-Wan had worn the style quite handsomely), and the man’s hair reached his shoulders in one swift, luxurious wave. Additionally, he had been growing out his facial hair, surely to make himself appear to be older, seeing as he was fairly young to have a padawan of his own.

Anakin thought that he looked angelic, what with his halo of auburn hair and his benevolent gaze and the glowing aura of his signature. So angelic, Anakin almost felt compelled to fall to his knees and worship. Maybe then, Obi-Wan would bless him with a kind word, perhaps even a touch, a caress of the cheek…

His devotional reverie was cut short by Ahsoka’s snickering. “Seems the only way to get anything through your thick skull is to threaten it with a ‘saber.” Anakin scowled at her, and felt a confusing rush of embarrassment and pleasure at the sound of Obi-Wan’s accompanying laughter.

“Padawan mine, don’t be so hard on your peer,” he chided without any true authority behind it, a smile still on his lips. Anakin struggled not to frown at the reminder that someone was Obi-Wan’s and it wasn’t himself.

Regarding Anakin once more, Obi-Wan gave him a nod that said ‘okay, sorry, I shall put you out of your misery now,’ complimenting, “Nevertheless, your Djem So is very impressive, young one. It will not be long before you master it.”

A wave of pleasure ran through Anakin’s body, heat rising to his cheeks and flooding his gut. _Oh my kriffing stars_ , he groaned to himself, internally begging, _do not get hard in front of everyone right now_. Over the years, as he grew and went through what Koon called ‘natural changes,’ it didn’t take much for his body to _react_ to quite literally anything Obi-Wan did.

Doing his best not to stutter, Anakin bowed his head and managed, “Thank you very much, Master.”

As Ahsoka repeated his words in a mocking tone, Koon sighed to Obi-Wan, saying, “If only he was so he was so responsive to the compliments I offer.” Obi-Wan simply shrugged in response, and Anakin scowled at the knowing smirk Ahsoka threw his way. Lusting after Obi-Wan would have been so much easier if he wasn’t the master of his horrible friend.

In a rare moment, Ahsoka gave Anakin an out rather than tormenting him further. “C’mon, Master, I’ve been waiting all morning to kick your ass.”

With a tug on her padawan beads, Obi-Wan reprimanded, “Language, Padawan,” but once again there was no heat behind the words.

The rest of Anakin’s training session was a mess. His mind kept replaying the sound of Obi-Wan’s fond chuckle, the images of his kind smile, the words of his praise. He kept sneaking glances at the way his body graciously moved through each stance, and the look of concentration and analyzation in his face as he coached Ahsoka. He was entranced by the way his hair was dampened by his exertion, the way the sweat dripped down beneath the collar of his undershirt.

In that moment, Anakin longed to be that droplet if only to see what lied beneath the Jedi’s robes. The next moment, Anakin shook his head at his insanity and blocked the next strike from Koon.

Sometimes, Anakin was thrown off, not by Obi-Wan, but by the glimpses he caught of the silka beads hanging from between Ahsoka’s montrals, swinging wildly as she sparred with Obi-Wan. Those beads, which signified her being Obi-Wan’s padawan and Obi-Wan being her master - her being Obi-Wan’s and Obi-Wan being hers - were the bane of Anakin’s existence. He eagerly awaited their removal as much as the cutting of his own his braid, the constant reminder that he was Plo Koon’s. Once the beads and braid were gone, and Anakin was a knight, there would be little in the way of his being Obi-Wan’s.

When Koon singed Anakin’s tunic a third time due to his being distracted, he huffed and called their training session to and end.

* * *

Later that night, as Anakin laid in his bed and stares at the ceiling, those images and sounds that distracted Anakin throughout his training session lingered. 

_Very impressive, young one…_

What else could Anakin do to get such lovely words out of the Jedi? How else could he impress him? Oh, he’d do just about anything.

He would - and this was a frequent fantasy of his - eagerly drop to his knees without hesitation and look up at the knight with pleading eyes.

 _“Do you want it?”_ the knight would ask.

 _“Yes.”_ Anakin would nod fervently, and clench his hands in the fabric of his leggings.

_“And do you think you’ve earned it, young one? Have you been good for me?”_

Anakin’s hand - his real one, not his fantasy one - was now shoved down past the waistband of his sleep pants, and he sighed in relief as he took his aching erection in hand. He held it firmly at the base for a moment before he began a slow pace and closed his eyes.

 _“Yes, yes, Master,”_ Anakin would sob, _“I’ve been good for you, I’ll be so good.”_

 _“Hmm,”_ Obi-Wan would hum, smiling down at the mess before him. _“I suppose you have. You always are so good, all for me.”_

Constants in Anakin’s fantasies were Obi-Wan calling him _good_ and Obi-Wan calling him _his_. Being Obi-Wan’s and being good at that was practically all Anakin wanted in life - other than being a Jedi Knight who could save the galaxy, of course, but that particular goal wasn’t relevant at the moment, seeing as Anakin currently had an eager hand around himself.

Anakin would nod and inch forward on his knees, eyes flicking down to the outline of Obi-Wan’s erection through his leggings. (Anakin imagined it was big, because there was simply no way Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t have a big dick.)

With a chuckle at Anakin’s obvious desperation, Obi-Wan would widen his stance and gesture to his groin. _“Well then, my eager boy, go ahead. Claim your reward.”_

The pleasure that coursed through his body at the thought of the words being spoken in Obi-Wan’s voice and directed towards him made Anakin groan loudly, so much so that he had to slap a hand over his mouth so that Koon wouldn’t hear him. His mental shields were up as high as they could go, but he knew Koon wouldn’t think twice about it; Anakin often shielded his thoughts from his master. He shielded to ensure that his dislike for his master’s teachings wouldn’t make their way to Koon’s mind, but most often it was for times like these where Anakin knew he’d simply drop dead if any of his lewd thoughts about his master’s friend were to slip across their training bond.

Stroking his hand up, Anakin wiped his palm against the leaking tip, covering his hand in precome and making the glide of his hand along his cock much more pleasurable. Biting into his hand, Anakin moaned as his hips bucked up, fucking into his slick fist.

In his mind, Anakin would now be eagerly bobbing his head along Obi-Wan’s cock, pressing his tongue along the bottom, eagerly licking up the man’s salty wetness each time he pulled back to the tip.

 _“Oh, my dear Anakin, so good for me, always so good,”_ Obi-Wan would groan.

Anakin would moan in affirmation around the man’s cock, bucking his hips to get friction against his own erection against his pants.

 _“So desperate,”_ Obi-Wan would tease. He’d then bring his hands down to fist Anakin’s braid and ponytail, holding him in place. Looking up with tear-filled eyes, Anakin would obediently wait. _“I can give you want you want so badly, what you need.”_

While Obi-Wan would say it as though it were a statement, a declaration, Anakin would know it was a question, an offer, and he’d hum and nod, _yes please!_

With kind eyes and a pleased hum, Obi-Wan would grip his hair even harder and swiftly shove his cock into Anakin’s mouth until it hit the back of his throat. Anakin’s eyes would roll back into his head and he’d keen, just as he did now in his room, pumping his fist around his cock at a delirious speed. He imagined Obi-Wan’s thrusts would match the pace of Anakin’s hand, fucking fast and relentless into the heat of Anakin’s mouth. Anakin would be a mess, drool and precome leaking out of his mouth and pants damp from his own wetness.

Being just on the precipice of release, Anakin whined pitifully into his hand, stroking so quickly it almost hurt. _“Oh, are you going to come in your pants, you’re so desperate?”_ Obi-Wan would tease, not unkindly. His voice would not even be strained, utterly unaffected. Anakin would mewl, unable to nod his head, hips bucking wildly. _“Go on, you poor thing. Go on and come for me. Won’t you? You’re always so good for me, so go on, come.”_

He wouldn’t last that long, though; the moment Obi-Wan would start talking in that sweet, low, cajoling tone Anakin would soak his pants with his come - both in his fantasy and real life. Loud moan mostly muffled by his hand, Anakin laid in his bed panting, holding himself in his come-soaked hand as he caught his bearings. He hated how he always came first in his fantasies, but he knew it was because even _his_ mind couldn’t fathom the privilege it would be to see and hear the knight’s orgasm.

Looking down at the mess of his pants, Anakin exhaled. _Great, there goes another pair._ Just as he was about to strip and go to bed, his holoprojector went off. Scrambling to cover himself with his blanket pick up the handheld before the noise woke up his master, Anakin answered and hissed, “What? What could it possibly be?”

“Well hello to you too, Skyguy,” Ahsoka would say with a raised brow. She did that a lot, raised a single brow in condescension, ever since Obi-Wan became her master.

“Hi. What do you want,” he spoke shortly, keeping his voice down. He was grateful he had thought to cover himself, so that his shameful mess was hidden from his friend’s sight.

“I want to go out. To the lower levels, specifically,” she answered. It was then that Anakin noticed she had on civilians’ clothing, and a headscarf that hid her beads. “Now, also specifically.”

“Very specific,” Anakin noted, “and stupid. There’s no way they’ll take us to the lower levels, they’re asleep.”

Ahsoka sighed deeply, closing her eyes and visibly summoning patience. When he opened her eyes, she leveled Anakin with a glare that suggested she couldn’t summon very much. “Anakin, you’re my brother, and that’s why I say this with all the compassion in my heart: you’re so, so stupid.” Scowling in offense, Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but Ahsoka continued. “We’re going to go alone.” Anakin opened his mouth again- “And before you say that they won’t let us go, I know that. That’s why we’re going to go without asking.”

Blinking at the projection, Anakin opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally uttering, “You mean… _sneak out of the Temple?”_ How could Ahsoka think of doing such a thing when it would surely upset her master? Oh, Force, just the thought of Obi-Wan being _disappointed_ made Anakin sick to his stomach.

“See, you’re catching on,” Ahsoka nodded, tone as condescending as her smile. Anakin huffed, and was about to say no, but took a second to reconsider. Sure, it would upset Obi-Wan, but he was in charge of Ahsoka; Anakin couldn’t care less about disappointing Koon, seeing as he did it nearly every day. And, going out _did_ sound fun; they could drink and dance and then come back home before anyone caught on.

“Okay, I’m in,” Anakin shrugged. Glancing down and remembering the mess on his crotch, he cringed and hoped Ahsoka didn’t notice. “I gotta change, first.”

“Woohoo!” Ashoka cheered, then smacked her hand over her mouth and checked around her. Anakin rolled his eyes at his friend. “Civilian clothes, Skyguy,” she reminded, voice a whisper, “and leave your ‘saber. We’re just going out for a good time; we don’t need to start anything.” Nodding, Anakin shut off his projector and got up to clean himself and change.

—

Sneaking out of his quarters had been easy, seeing as his shields had already been up and blocking his end of the bond. No one was walking the Temple halls at this time of night, and any nocturnal Jedi the did stumble upon were, fortunately, initiates and padawans who would wink and promise not to snitch on them.

On their way down to the lower levels, Anakin and Ahsoka eagerly planned which bars and clubs they would hit, wanting to make the most out of their night of freedom. Both had been smart enough to snatch a few credits from their masters, something they could easily pass off as lost bets among the padawans - a common occurrence. Just last week Anakin had to ‘borrow’ fifty credits from Master Koon because he had bet that Barriss Offee couldn’t steal one of her master’s headdresses and wear it to Dex’s. Koon wasn’t amused by the cost, but was amused by the image of Barriss in one of Luminara’s signature headpieces.

Reaching the lowest level that was still relatively safe and yet would turn a blind eye to two young individuals seeking out alcohol, Anakin and Ahsoka made their way into their first bar. They decided to start out with a couple drinks so that they could loosen up before making their ways to the busier clubs.

Both gagging around their first shot of liquor, Ahsoka turned to Anakin as they leaned on the bar. “So,” she said, coughing a bit, “how’re things with Koon? You still being a whiny baby?”

Rolling his eyes, Anakin waved his hand to order more drinks. “I’m not a _whiny baby_ ,” he whined. “Things are fine. He lectures, I listen. He orders, I do. Basic master-padawan stuff.”

“Skyguy,” Ahsoka sighed, but waited to continue until the waiter who dropped off their drinks left. When she did, she spoke softly, uncertainly. “I know you’re upset that Master Kenobi chose me, but-”

Slamming his now empty glass onto the counter, Anakin turned to face Ahsoka. “No. Stop,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m not upset.” It was obviously a lie, but he did hate seeing Ahsoka’s features pinched with regret. “I was… surprised, but it’s fine. I’m fine. Koon’s a good master, and I can tell that you and Master Kenobi work well together.” Each word was a stab into his chest, and he tried to give Ahsoka a smile as he waved for a third round.

Shoulders sagging in relief, Ahsoka sighed and gave a tentative smile in return. “Okay. Thanks, Skyguy. I’ve felt so bad about it for the past six years.”

 _You think you feel bad about it_ , Anakin thought to himself. Instead of letting his bitterness ruin the night, Anakin shook himself off and smiled. “Come on, Snips, enough of that.” Raising his glass, he continued, “To us, the best padawans in the history of the Order.”

With a bright smile, Ahsoka raised her glass and tapped it against Anakin’s. “Here, here!” They downed their drinks and decided to move onto their first club, leaving a healthy amount of credits on the counter behind them.

—

“ _Kriff_ yes, I _love_ this song!” Ahsoka yelled over the music, raising her arms up and swaying happily to the beat. Anakin laughed and joined her, his brain not even registering her words over the pounding of the music and his blood in his ears. He didn’t know which club they were in anymore, or what number drink they were on, or how long they had been gone, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, he was having so much _fun_. Any thoughts of Koon or Obi-Wan or anything other than the buzz in his veins were far from Anakin’s mind.

Thinking of the buzz, Anakin decided he wanted more of it. “I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?” he yelled into Ahsoka’s ear.

“Kriff yeah, Skyguy!” she cheered, still dancing. He gave her a thumbs up and made his way over to the bar, ordering Twi’lek liquor for himself and his friend.

As he leaned on the counter and bounced along to the music, a figure came up to his right, leaning on the bar very closely to him. “Hey there, young thing,” the figure spoke roughly into his ear. Anakin shivered at the sensation, leaning away and ignoring the man. He smelled like spice and liquor, and the stains on his clothes made Anakin cringe. “Aw, don’t be like that,” he drawled, resting a hand on Anakin’s arm.

Anakin flinched and made to pull his arm away, but the man tightened his grasp on it. Anakin looked over at the man, a Duros with purple skin and unsettling red eyes, who leered at him openly. Using his free hand, the man trailed his finger up Anakin’s neck to his hair.

“Fancy style,” he said, clearly referring to Anakin’s braid that was wrapped around his short ponytail in an effort to blend in more easily. The Duros tugged the braid, pulling it to fall from Anakin’s head as it always did. Too inebriated to stop him but not too inebriated to notice that this was going badly, Anakin whined and tried to get out of the man’s grip once more.

“C’mon, young thing, relax,” the man’s voice said in a manner than was probably meant to be soothing, but shook Anakin to his core. “Now, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I only know of one kind of folk who have these particular haircuts,” the man said thoughtfully, twirling the braid around his finger. The action made Anakin feel incredibly dirtied, violated. “And if I’m not mistaken,” the man continued in his low, gravelly voice, “those folk earn individuals such as myself quite a pretty sum on the black market.”

“Please,” Anakin whimpered, growing dizzy in his panic. He tried to pull away again, but was held in place by the Duros’ hold on his arm and braid. The man smiled menacingly, but was distracted by whoever placed a solid hand on Anakin’s shoulder.

“Kindly remove your hands from my apprentice,” Master Koon’s strong, sure voice boomed over Anakin’s shoulder. _Master Koon!_ Anakin thought happily. Then, Anakin winced. _Master Koon…_ he thought unhappily.

Letting go, the Duros raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “My apologies, Master Jedi,” the Duros said, stepping away. Then, throwing Anakin a grin, he added, “Hope to see you real soon, young thing.”

Before Anakin could watch the man walk away, he was dragged out of the club by his master’s grip on his shoulder. Once outside, he was met with Obi-Wan holding Ahsoka in a similar grasp, his features drawn in clear disappointment.

Even in his drunken state, the expression on the knight’s face was the worst thing Anakin had ever seen in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh! :)))
> 
> sorry if this chapter was kinda boring, I needed it to set up what everyone's relationships look like six years later, but I hope Anakin's... alone time... makes up for it LOL
> 
> feel free to comment and let me know what you think so far!! I have the outline mostly finished so hopefully the next chapter will be up soon <3


	3. Padawan: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg y'all have been so kind with your kudos and comments...some even sent THEORIES which is SO COOL!!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was impossible to write lol

The ride back up to the Temple was hazy, and Anakin didn’t remember much of it. Much like his fellow padawan, Anakin was exhausted from dancing and his eyes were heavy from the alcohol still valiantly pumping through his system, so he spent most of the ride falling in and out of sleep.

Somehow, Anakin still had enough of a mind to hold up his shields; probably because it was second nature to him now. This, fortunately, blocked the wave of disappointment he was sure would be crashing into him from his master’s side of the bond. Koon was driving the speeder, not having spoken to or looked at Anakin once since they began their ascent.

Anakin was grateful for his master’s ignorance of him. He truly didn’t want to be lectured for his poor decisions in front of his friend and the man he admired most.

He also didn’t want his master to see the absolutely miserable look on his face. While Koon was cold and detached, Obi-Wan had made Ahsoka sit in the front seat so the knight could sit behind her, beside Anakin. Anakin had been thrilled at the prospect of being so close to Obi-Wan. His brain sluggishly conjured up the image of Anakin tucking himself under Obi-Wan’s arm, pressing himself against the solid heat of the knight and falling into a peaceful sleep in that position.

Instead, Anakin had the perfect view to watch as Obi-Wan gingerly pulled Ahsoka’s headscarf off of her montrals. As the young Togruta slept, Obi-Wan silently untangled her silka beads that had become unruly from dancing, taking care not to ruin them or wake his padawan. Every time Ahsoka would shift and grumble, Obi-Wan would pause his motions and keep still until she settled once more. When she did, he’d resume his task with careful fingers and an unreadable expression.

The action was so tender, so intimate, Anakin huffed and pressed his body to his side of the speeder, curling himself to be as small as possible, as small as he felt in that moment. He kept his eyes focused out the window, watching the lights whiz past with a scowl that stayed fixed on his face even as he fell asleep once again.

* * *

When Anakin awoke the next morning, it was to a disgustingly dry mouth and a debilitating headache. He winced at the minuscule amount of light that managed to sneak past his closed blinds. _Can’t a man suffer in peace?_

Groaning, Anakin forced himself to sit up in his bed. After holding his face in his hands for what could have been seconds or minutes or hours, Anakin begrudgingly shoved the sheets off of himself and made his way to the refresher attached to his room.

Anakin winced once again and shouted in displeasure once he switched the light on, obviously not capable of enough thought to have spared his aching head the torture.

Blinking rapidly, he adjusted to the brightness and regarded his reflection in the mirror. He was still dressed in his civilian clothes, now much more wrinkled and disorderly from an adventurous night and hours - had it been hours? - of sleep. His eyes were then drawn to his hair, how the band holding his short ponytail was nowhere to be found and how his braid was mostly undone.

Images of Obi-Wan’s calm, steady fingers working to get Ahsoka’s silka beads back into order flashed through his mind. _Master Koon didn’t bother to fix my braid._

The thought made Anakin scowl and turn away from the mirror much faster than his head would’ve liked. He turned on the shower and began stripping himself out of his clothes. After flicking the lights off, Anakin stepped into the shower.

Once under the warm water, Anakin sighed in relief as he cleansed himself of the night before. The sweat from dancing, the grime of the clubs, the residue left by the Duros’ grasp on him, all washed away and were claimed by the drain.

The only thing that wouldn’t wash away, unfortunately, was the look of utter disappointment on Obi-Wan’s face outside of the club.

The furrow of the man’s brows that were supposed to be raised in amusement, the down turn of lips that were meant to be stretched around a toothy grin, the _defeat_ in the eyes that should only be shining in delight… it sent a shiver through Anakin despite the scorching temperature of the water.

When he began washing his hair, Anakin shook his head and huffed in frustration. _Master Koon didn’t even bother to fix my braid._ Anakin’s mind was stuck on the fact, and on the idea that, for some reason, if Obi-Wan was his master the whole ordeal wouldn’t have even happened and his braid wouldn’t need to be fixed.

No, if Obi-Wan was Anakin’s master, Anakin was sure he’d never leave the man’s side. Ahsoka could beg and plead and convince all she’d like, but if Obi-Wan was in their quarters that was where Anakin would be. How could he be separate from the all-consuming warmth and light that was Obi-Wan’s Force signature? Or what if the knight were to awaken and want company?

Anakin didn’t understand how Ahsoka was so nonchalant about being Obi-Wan Kenobi’s padawan. He was the first Jedi in a millennium to kill a Sith lord, and he did it _single-handedly_. With such an accomplishment under his belt, and as a seasoned padawan and knight, he would have endless stories of his fascinating travels and heroic battles.

And yet, Ahsoka acted as if the Force hadn’t handed her the greatest gift it could offer. Her relationship with Obi-Wan seemed to be, much to Anakin’s reluctance to admit, favorable. They teased and challenged one another, and she progressed well under his instruction. He was constantly helping her improve her lightsaber skills, going so far as to teach her Jar’Kai when she had shown interest. And who better to learn diplomacy skills from than the ultimate diplomat himself? She had the perfect Jedi, the master padawans could only dream of having.

And still, there were times that she had the audacity to come to Anakin and _complain_ about her master. (She didn’t do that much anymore, quickly learning that Anakin would not stand for _any_ slander of Obi-Wan Kenobi, thank you very much.) And she still disobeyed, such as skipping lessons or sneaking out of the Temple to drink and dance in the lower levels.

And what did Obi-Wan do? He rescued her and fixed her silka beads with all the tender care he could muster while she slept, unknowing of her master’s kindness.

_Master Koon didn’t even bother to fix my braid, not even when we got home._

Fully clean and miserable, Anakin shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Drying himself off with a towel, Anakin made his way back to his bedroom and decided to wear a loose loungewear set. He sighed at the comfort of the soft pants and long-sleeved shirt, already looking forward to the series of naps he was sure to take today. He didn’t care how mad Koon was; there was no way Anakin could do anything productive, what with the relentless pain pounding his skull.

Returning to the ‘fresher, Anakin squinted his eyes in preparation before turning on the light. Once his eyes had adjusted as much as they could in his state, Anakin assessed his hair. He didn’t take in his appearance for very long, seeing as he wanted for nothing more than to turn the light back off, so he quickly found a hair tie and easily tied up his short ponytail. Pushing aside the resentment that returned to the surface, he then made quick yet careful work of his braid, weaving the strands back together until they were in the perfect braid.

Once he was fully put together, Anakin decided that it was probably time to drink water and get food into his stomach. When he opened his door and entered the shared spaced of their quarters, he was, for some reason, surprised to see Master Koon in the room. The Kel Dor stood at their window that overlooked the busy city below, looking out so that his back was to Anakin. His long fingers were clasped behind his back, and he stood, silent and motionless.

Padding tentatively to the kitchen, Anakin prepared his meal. He kept it simple, not knowing what he would manage to hold down. The entire time he bustled about the kitchen, Koon remained a statue at the window. Lowering his shields a fraction, Anakin reached out to see what Koon was feeling. He was sure he would be met with disappointment, frustration, anger.

Instead, he was met with nothing. Nothing but a firm, impassive wall.

The utter lack of any emotion shook Anakin to his core. He _hated_ his master’s coldness when he was upset.

“Master?” Anakin croaked, voice rough as he used it for the first time that day. Koon didn’t look his way, didn’t hum or nod in acknowledgement. He simply kept his stance steady and his gaze out the window.

Koon rarely got so mad to the point where he completely ignored Anakin, and he had never completely shut his side of the bond before.

Anakin called out to him once more to no avail. Needing a reaction, anything, Anakin held out his glass of water and let it slip from his fingers, let it smash on the ground. Koon didn’t so much as flinch.

Tears already falling down his cheeks, Anakin ran out the door of their quarters.

* * *

Anakin was sure that Obi-Wan’s shocked expression was mirrored on Anakin’s own face. When he had run across the Temple to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s quarters, he had expected Ahsoka to answer the door. He expected her to give him a groggy glare and pull him inside and tease him enough that he would scowl or laugh instead of cry.

He did not expect Obi-Wan to raise his eyebrows in surprise, and then furrow them in concern at Anakin’s tear-stained cheeks. And he certainly didn’t expect Obi-Wan to step to the side, to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and to usher him in with a soft, “Please, come in.”

Padding in with bare feet, Anakin sniffed and was moved by Obi-Wan’s guiding hand on his shoulder to sit on the couch. Obi-Wan sat on the short table in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his fingers together. As Anakin consciously avoided looking at the spread of Obi-Wan’s legs, the man waited for Anakin to speak first.

He did, once he could be sure that his voice wouldn’t crack and waver, which was hard considering not only his emotions but also the fact that Obi-Wan was currently placing all of his undivided attention on him. “Where’s Ahsoka?” he asked quietly, looking down at his own fingers as they fidgeted with the hem of his lounge shirt.

“Asleep,” Obi-Wan answered, nodding his head towards Ahsoka’s room. “She’s still quite tired from your night out.”

Anakin snapped his eyes up to meet Obi-Wan’s, which were not angry nor judgmental, but they were not happy. They were patient, considerate, observant. Anakin couldn’t tell if he was made uneasy or calmed by the expression.

Biting his lip, Anakin looked down at his hands once more and felt new tears fall from his eyes, his lip trembling between his teeth.

“What troubles you, young one?” Obi-Wan asked him, tilting his head forward as he spoke softly.

Anakin’s lip fell from the bite of his teeth, and he took a shaky breath as more tears welled in his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. _So much for ‘There is no emotion,’ huh?_ “I... M-My master…” Anakin began, but was cut off by a sob he immediately choked down. He did not need to _weep_ in front of _Obi-Wan Kenobi_.

With a knowing hum, Obi-Wan gave Anakin a small nod. “He is upset?” Anakin nodded miserably. “Well, you did disobey him. You know that you weren’t to leave as you had.”

“I know,” Anakin whimpered, hating the idea of Obi-Wan regarding him as disobedient, “I know. She just- We wanted to have fun,” he finished barely above a whisper, emotionally and mentally exhausted. “He won’t talk to me, won’t even look at me. I can’t stand it.”

Anakin hadn’t meant to say that last part, but his hangover and headache and heightened emotions were making him ramble, making him vulnerable. The sensation made his own skin feel foreign, and he desperately wanted to crawl out of it. He began fidgeting more, first with his hands, then his feet, then his legs, until his entire body was squirming.

“Here,” Obi-Wan said, suddenly standing and pushing the table away from the couch. He sat down on the floor where the table had been, sitting straight up with his legs crossed. Anakin gave him a quizzical look, to which Obi-Wan replied with a wave of his hand towards himself. “Come here, please.”

Unable to disobey Obi-Wan and mentally chiding himself for making the man repeat his request, Anakin slipped off the couch and onto the ground with a thud, crossing his legs like Obi-Wan. Even with his back pressed up against the seat of the couch, there was little space between himself and the knight, and their knees were pressed tightly together. The close proximity and the warmth seeping between their layers make Anakin blush fiercely.

“Good,” Obi-Wan nodded, the single word sending a thrill through Anakin. Even as a sobbing, disobedient wreck, Obi-Wan still thought he had done _good_. “Let us mediate.” Forgetting to mind himself, Anakin groaned and slumped his shoulders in annoyance. Obi-Wan chuckled, the sound making Anakin sit up straight and blush even further. He wasn’t going to survive this.

“Come now, young one,” Obi-Wan said, amusement making the corner of his mouth quirk up. “It will help your headache and it will help to balance your emotions.”

 _Ha!_ As if Anakin’s emotions have _ever_ been balanced, and as if _meditation_ would be the way to achieve that. However, out of his need to obey and please Obi-Wan, and out of his desire to stay close to the knight, Anakin nodded and mirrored Obi-Wan’s posture and placed his hands on his knees.

Closing his eyes only once Obi-Wan had, Anakin awaited further instruction. During meditation, Master Koon often coached his breathing, or helped him visualize different things to help him focus. Obi-Wan, however, stayed silent. Instead, he gently prodded at Anakin’s shields with the Force. Anakin gasped at the sensation of Obi-Wan’s Force presence washing over him, the warmth and light of him slowly enveloping him like the sweetest syrup. Anakin could have happily drowned in it forever.

Feeling so at ease from the sensation, it was easy for Anakin to lower his shields and welcome Obi-Wan’s honey-like presence to fill his mind. Anakin did, however, take care not to lower his shields _all_ the way; he didn’t need Obi-Wan to know just how much he already enjoyed their meditation session.

With Obi-Wan in his head, Anakin did not have to be told how to breathe or what to visualize. It was as though Obi-Wan and Anakin had become tethered in some way; not quite as intimately as a master-padawan bond, but it took not even seconds for their breathing and heart rates to fall into sync.

In his mind, Anakin saw the golden shine of their merged signatures, the light flooding his senses. The Force was shouting at him loudly, as it always did, now amplified by Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force. Anakin heard Obi-Wan hum thoughtfully, but Anakin was to engrossed to acknowledge it.

He never thought he’d live to see the day he was _engrossed_ by meditation, and yet, here it was. Anakin did not see serene waterfalls or infinite space or grazing bantha herds as he was often told to imagine. No, he did not need to see any calming images to center him; Obi-Wan alone did that. His mind was eased by the knight in the Force, his body by the press of their knees.

Hours could have passed before Anakin felt Obi-Wan pull away in the Force. Feeling so relaxed and open, he couldn’t stop the whine of displeasure from escaping his lips. When he snapped his eyes open, Obi-Wan was staring at him with wide eyes, making dread fill Anakin’s being.

He flushed under the knight’s gaze. “I apologize, Master,” Anakin immediately began. “I just… I’ve never been able to mediate like that before, it was amazing.”

“Amazing, yes,” Obi-Wan murmured, still staring at Anakin with wide eyes. Was he… in _awe?_ Of _Anakin?_ Anakin couldn’t tell if he was pleased or worried. Obi-Wan must have noticed Anakin’s conflict, for he came back to himself and gave Anakin an apologetic smile. “Forgive me. I have never encountered someone so powerful in the Force before; it’s like it is drawn to you.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” Anakin said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Apparently my cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians some have seen in a life form. They say it is possible I was conceived by the midi-chlorians,” he quoted the transcript from Qui-Gon’s meeting with the Council fourteen years ago.

With a knowing smile and hum, Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, I am aware. That is why Master Jinn believed you to be the Chosen One.”

Blushing, Anakin shrugged. “Supposedly.”

“It’s a shame you did not get to know Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan added with a sad smile. “I believe you two would have been well suited for each other.”

Anakin thought of the transcript again. _“Finding him was the will of the Force. I have no doubt of that.”_ It brought a smile to his face.

“I’d like to think so too,” Anakin agreed.

Obi-Wan hummed again, eyes narrowed in thought. “It is fortunate, then, that you were able to find a suitable master in Koon, is it not?” he questioned as though it wasn’t a rhetorical question.

Anakin’s head jerked back in surprise at the question. He was grateful the meditation had gotten rid of his headache so the action didn’t send waves of pain throughout his skull. “Y-Yes, Master, it is,” he managed in his confusion.

Nodding as if he had just confirmed a hunch, Obi-Wan stood and extended his hand down to Anakin, who was already mourning the warm press of their knees. Taking the knight’s hand, he suppressed a shiver at the sensation of the man’s calloused fingers grasping his as he was pulled up to stand.

Obi-Wan let go of his hand and walked him to the door. “I agree, young one. And now that you are level, I think it best you go return to him.” Anakin nodded, ensuring his shields were entirely secure once more so Obi-Wan didn’t catch his disappointment at the fact that Obi-Wan was not the person Anakin was meant to return to. In a perfect world, Anakin would wear some sort of tag that stated: _If found, return to Obi-Wan Kenobi_.

“Yes, Master. And thank you for your help,” he said with a short bow.

“Of course, Padawan. I am always happy to help,” Obi-Wan said with his own bow in return. It felt wrong to have Obi-Wan bowing to _him_ , but Anakin bit his tongue. “I will tell Ahsoka you stopped by. Give my best to Master Plo.”

With an exchange of parting nods, Obi-Wan closed the door and took with him all the warmth Anakin had already grown used to being encased in. Exhaling sharply, Anakin walked along the halls in his bare feet, delaying his return to his quarters for as long as possible.

* * *

After standing outside the door for probably ten minutes, Anakin finally opened it and entered the shared space of his quarters. Master Koon was there still, but instead of standing at the window, he had moved to sit on the couch. He looked up from his datapad, setting it aside as the door closed behind Anakin.

“So,” Koon spoke, and for the first time in six years Anakin felt he could sob in relief at the sound of his master’s voice, “is running off going to become a habit of yours?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Anakin balled his hands up into fists and lowered his head, eyes to the floor. Normally, when Koon lectured him, Anakin would scoff and cross his arms, even retort with snarky comments. After meditating with Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan commending Koon’s mastership, Anakin decided to mind himself this time. “No, Master.”

Koon responded with a simple, flat hum. “Come, Anakin. Sit.” Anakin did, sitting on the couch beside his master but keeping his distance. After staring at him for a beat, Koon continued. “You must understand why I am upset with you, Padawan.”

Lowering his head again, Anakin gave him a nod. “Yes, Master.” His mind once again supplied the image of Obi-Wan’s disappointed face, making him wince. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“I’m sure you are,” Koon agreed cooly. “What you did last night was not only disrespectful and disobedient, but was a perfect example of why rules are in place. It was reckless and incredibly dangerous.”

Each of Koon’s words made Anakin curl further and further into himself. His padawan braid had never felt heavier than it did in that moment. “Yes, Master,” was all he said.

“Not only did you and Padawan Tano go unaccompanied, but you were inebriated and without any means to defend yourself.” Anakin saw Koon gesture to Anakin’s ‘saber, which was placed on the table in front of them. “If I had not noticed your absence, and Master Kenobi and I had not come after you, who knows what could have happened.”

Thinking back to the Duros’ grip on his braid and arm and the raspy words threatening to sell him made Anakin shiver. “Yes, Master.”

Master Koon let out a long sigh. After a long stretch of silence, during which Anakin kept himself small and his mind raced with guilt, Koon spoke again. “You have made it very clear during your apprenticeship that I may not be the master you had hoped for.” Anakin snapped his head up and opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat.

What was the point? Koon was right.

“Nevertheless,” Koon continued once Anakin was finished searching for words, “I am your master and you are my padawan. I want nothing more than to see you safe and to see you progress into the Jedi Knight I know you can become.” Anakin’s eyes widened at the words, his heart racing in surprise. Koon had always been a kind and encouraging master, but he had never spoken so frankly about his optimism in regards to Anakin’s future in the Order.

Over his years as the Kel Dor’s padawan, Anakin had learned how to notice his changes in expression that to most were hidden by his breath mask. Currently, in response to Anakin’s surprise, he was smiling softly. “You have excelled in your lightsaber training, and although it may not be at the pace of your liking, the progress is steady and it is impressive.” Anakin sat up taller at the praise, offering his own small smile. While Obi-Wan’s praise left Anakin flushed and hungry for more, Koon’s made him feel validation and pride.

“There is still much you have to learn in other areas, such as diplomacy and meditation,” Koon continued, and Anakin hoped he didn’t catch his flush at the mention of meditation, “but I know you will show proficiency in those as well.”

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said, now fully beaming at the man.

“I am saddened you are so surprised by my pride in your abilities, Padawan,” the Kel Dor admitted, smiling falling. It made Anakin’s fall, too. “I have always had faith in you, and I do not know what I have done to make you think otherwise. I apologize.”

Shaking his head in shock, Anakin began, “No, Master, you don’t need to-”

“I apologize,” Koon cut him off, tone firm, “but it still does not excuse the disrespect you have shown me. Last night was just an example of your recent acts of rebellion against me. If you have any resentment towards my being your master, you may take it up with me and the Council.”

Heart racing and head shaking frantically, Anakin tried again, “No! Master, I-”

“Until then, I am your master and you are my apprentice, and as such you are to show me respect and obey my teachings. Is that understood?”

The shift in his master’s attitude throughout the duration of their conversation - disappointed as he lectured, proud as he complimented, stern as he reprimanded - gave Anakin slight whiplash. As a thousand emotions rose within him, Anakin could do little more but nod and answer, “Yes, Master.”

“Good,” Koon nodded, standing from the couch. “The Council and I have decided that your punishment will be to aid Master Nu in updating the Archives’ database, seeing as you already spend so much time reading over transcripts.”

This time, Anakin could not hold back his eye roll and groan, relieved to have it met with a smirk from his master.

“And Ahsoka?” he questioned, also standing.

“Padawan Tano will not be fulfilling her punishment in the Archives. We did not think it best to _reward_ your behavior,” Koon answered. Anakin sighed; he couldn’t argue with that, and though he did wonder what Ahsoka’s punishment was, he didn’t want to push it by asking. “Now, Padawan, it has been a long day and we had quite the night before. You may take the day to rest and begin reporting to the Archives tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin sighed in relief. Koon nodded in response, and each retired to their respective rooms.

Once the door shut behind him, Anakin collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep to visions of a honey-glow, gray-blue eyes filled with awe, and warmth firmly pressing against his knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Koon finally talked! and not much came out of it LOL
> 
> Anakin and Obi-Wan talked and meditated! and Anakin's crush is, if possible, Bigger :)
> 
> again, thank you to everyone for reading, kudo-ing, and commenting, it truly means the world! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll see ya with the next one! <3


	4. Padawan: Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!! my blood, sweat, and tears went into making this coherent and I’m sure it still isn’t, but I hope y’all enjoy!! :D

The Temple Archives had always been a place of solace, of refuge for Anakin. For the most part, he had been left alone to read the transcript over and over, or to memorize the visual guides for stances his master had yet to teach him, or to occasionally read about the Jedi long past.

No matter how much peace Anakin had found in the Archives for the last fourteen years, having to work there, for hours, was still a punishment.

Working under the authority of Master Jocasta Nu was nothing Anakin could complain about. Her demeanor was soft spoken, kind, and infinitely patient. Even when Anakin repeatedly messed up his task of reorganizing the Temple’s Archives, such as mislabeling data or incorrectly filing it away, she was always quick to forgive and gentle in her corrections.

Whenever Anakin stumbled upon something of interest, such as past Council documents or entries regarding former and fellow Jedi that read like Temple gossip, Master Nu would smile knowingly and allow him a peak. Often, she would even supply her own knowledge of the documents, such as the original author or her experience with the subject of the writings.

Unfortunately, no matter how pleasant Master Nu’s company was, being cooped up in the Archives was maddening after only a few days. Despite the Temple’s state of the art filtering system and Anakin’s constant moving of files, a layer of dust always managed to rest upon the Archives’ surface seemingly overnight, which Anakin of course had to clean. Despite the Jedi’s considerate ways, they always rushed in needing information and then rushed off to their duties, leaving behind a mess that Anakin, of course, had to clean.

He wondered what kind of mind trick the Council must have used on Master Nu to keep her so kind and so happy after all these years as Chief Librarian.

“Here you are, Padawan Skywalker,” Master Nu said, handing him a datapad. On it was a list that seemed never ending, with titles, authors, and dates. “These are the texts recently pulled by Jedi that have yet to return to their homes on the shelf,” she smiled. Anakin couldn’t even bring it to himself to return the gesture; Koon had picked a fitting punishment for him indeed. “Remember, they are shelved by-”

“By author, not title,” Anakin finished for her. He winced at the interruption, even though she only continued to smile with understanding and patience. “I’ll get right on it, Madam Jocasta,” he said, looking over the list.

“I know you will do an excellent job,” she commended, turning to go about her own duties.

The task was infuriating, to say the least. The titles that had been pulled had authors whose names began with seemingly every letter of the Basic alphabet in, of course, no particular order. Anakin had to run back and forth throughout the entirety of the Archives, grabbing books and finding where they belonged, and getting caught up whenever he found books in the the wrong spot and began the additional task of finding _those_ book’s rightful place.

Hours had passed, and Anakin wasn’t even close to being halfway through the list.

He nearly fell off of the ladder he was standing on, stretching to place a book way up and to the left, when his holoprojector went off.

“Kriff!” he cursed as he dropped the book in order to grab the ladder and prevent his own fall. The loud _thud_ made him wince at the thought of falling from this height.

Pulling out his handheld, Anakin scowled at Ahsoka’s small, blue figure. “Snips! You have _got_ to stop almost scaring me to my _actual death_!” With a short pause he huffed and recalled how their last call had gone. His scowl deepened. “Why are you calling me? We’re supposed to be-”

“Anakin, please!” she cut him off. He snapped his mouth shut at her tone, and his scowl melted into a concerned frown when he realized her demeanor. She seemed frantic, anxious. Her mouth was downturned, her legs restlessly bouncing, her hands shaking and fingers twitching, her eyes wide and wild.

“What is it, Ahsoka?” he asked, dread growing in his stomach.

“Anakin, you have to help me,” she begged, and he hated how afraid she sounded. “We have to get a ship, we have go to Geonosis.”

“Genonosis?” Anakin parroted. Why would they go to Genonosis when they were forbidden to leave the Temple for the next two weeks? “What’s on Geonosis?”

Ahsoka bit her lip and seemed to search Anakin’s face. The dread grew into a sinking weight in his stomach, and he was about to demand she _spit it out_ when she finally spoke. “Obi-Wan,” she answered. “We have to rescue Obi-Wan.”

A million thoughts raced through Anakin’s mind. What was Obi-Wan doing on Geonosis? How had he been captured? _Why_ had he been captured? How would they get a ship? How would they get out of the Temple without getting caught?

The thought that took precedent, of course, was the one that always raced through Anakin’s mind: _Obi-Wan_.

With a bit of help from the Force, Anakin gracefully jumped down from the ladder, landing much more gently than the book had. Already making his way out of the Archives with determined steps, he responded, “I’ll meet you in the hangar,” and hung up.

—

Stealing a ship had been easy. Anakin was hesitant to use that word, ‘stealing,’ but that technically was what they had done. Ahsoka’s punishment had been to help repair the Temple’s ships, of which Anakin was endlessly jealous of. However, it made her presence in the hangar less suspect, and many probably assumed Anakin was simply visiting his friend.

When Anakin had met up with Ahsoka, she was accompanied by Artoo, so they told the droid that they had been assigned an emergency rescue mission, which they hadn’t; they walked into the hangar and told anyone who asked that they were to test one of the ships, which they weren’t; and they flew off in a G9 Rigger freighter, which they definitely were not supposed to do whilst under punishment.

The entire trip there had been tense. Ahsoka was fidgeting and on the verge of tears, while Anakin flew quickly with a white-knuckle grip, not allowing himself to think of any possibility other than their successful rescue of the knight.

Even after entering hyperspace, Anakin kept his gaze forward and his hands on the steering. Long moments of silence stretched between them, until Ahsoka broke it with a quiet, “Thank you, Anakin. I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Of course,” Anakin answered quickly. He was warmed by the fact that Ahsoka trusted in him and his abilities enough to ask him for help with such a task. He also knew, however, that as grounded padawans, there was no else _to_ ask. A part of him also knew that he was the obvious choice, seeing as no one cared about Obi-Wan Kenobi and his well-being as much as Anakin did.

“How do you know he’s been captured?” Anakin asked. He assumed it was from her bond with Obi-Wan, and the thought caused jealousy to rear its ugly head. Oh, how he _longed_ to feel Obi-Wan Kenobi, even while planets away. From their meditation session days - although it felt like lifetimes to Anakin - ago, he had gotten a taste of what it was to be mentally connected to the knight.

It was addicting. He craved it, every moment. And his best friend _had_ _that_. He would hate her for it, if he didn’t like her so much.

“A signal,” she answered, her eyes glued to the viewport to her right and the blue streaks of light racing past. “His long-range transmitter had been damaged, or something, so he sent me a message through Artoo to pass on to the Council. I was closer, since I was doing an _actual_ test flight at the time, until I booked it back to the Temple. He was talking about a bounty hunter, and a droid army, and I think he mentioned Dooku-”

“Dooku? Wait, what bounty hunter? What’s going on?” Anakin asked, mind suddenly racing with even more questions.

“I don’t know, Anakin,” Ahsoka snapped in annoyance. “Just like you, I’ve been under lock down at the Temple while my master has been out going Force knows what…” As she spoke, her annoyance turned sadness. Anakin could feel her dismay in the Force, and it made his chest ache. As much as he was worried for Obi-Wan, the knight was Ahsoka’s master, and they had a relationship that was deeper than Anakin would ever know. The situation must be very difficult for her, which only made Anakin’s adamance for success increase.

He didn’t speak, and waited for Ahsoka to continue when she was ready, much like Obi-Wan had when Anakin showed up at their quarters sobbing. “I don’t know what he’s been up to or what he’s found, but the transmission cut short when-” she suddenly stopped, and fear coursed through Anakin’s body.

“When what?”

“Droidikas attacked him,” she answered, and it took all of Anakin’s willpower to not do something stupid while rage quickly filled him. _How_ dare _someone attack Obi-Wan!_ “He’s still alive, though,” Ahsoka spoke, her voice barely making its way through the blood pounding through Anakin’s ears, “I can feel him.”

Anakin was so angry at whoever sent _droidikas_ after Obi-Wan that he wasn’t even able to feel jealous at Ahsoka’s mention of her bond with Obi-Wan. _If they so much as_ touched _Obi-Wan…_

“We’ll get him back,” Anakin promised through gritted teeth. Even if Anakin had to kill every single Genonosian, tear apart each droid piece by piece, he would. He’d do just about anything for Obi-Wan, at this point.

* * *

“I was beginning to wonder if you had gotten my message,” Obi-Wan huffed as Geonosians chained Anakin and Ahsoka to separate pillars next to Obi-Wan’s.

The whole ordeal was incredibly embarrassing for Anakin, for a plethora of reasons. Firstly, he hated himself for managing to get captured himself; he would’ve eagerly slaughtered each and every obstacle that stood between himself and the knight, but he… _misplaced_ his lightsaber.

Secondly, when he was brought out to the arena, he was not expecting to be met with the sight of Obi-Wan chained to a pillar. The knight was missing his signature robe, but his tunics and boots were, of course, still in pristine condition. Anakin didn’t know what Obi-Wan might have been through during the span of his capture, but it was both surprising and unsurprising that after battling droidikas and being chained in an arena, the man’s long auburn hair was still immaculately styled.

Then, there was the obvious problem: Obi-Wan was chained to a pillar. His wrists were crossed and cuffed, his arms raised above his head. Anakin wanted to tear his eyes away and save himself the embarrassment, but he simply couldn’t.

Not with it being so much easier to take in Obi-Wan’s form. His tunics, tabards, and pants were of course loose enough that most of his form was hidden, but Anakin knew that underneath it all the years of training and fighting had toned the man’s physique in a way that Anakin could only imagine - which he frequently did.

He truly couldn’t look away, what with the knight’s sleeves falling down his arms towards his shoulders to reveal the sleeves of his form-fitting undershirt. It wasn’t even the man’s _skin_ but the skin-tight fabric made heat coil low in Anakin’s gut.

 _Force, are you there? It’s me, Anakin. I’m in the middle of helping my friend rescue her master, and also ourselves, seeing as we got caught in the process. Of course, I would appreciate help in getting us out of this mess, but can I make a second request? It would be really great if you could somehow make it so I_ don’t _get hard in front of them and this arena full of people simply because I saw his_ arms _. Thanks._

With his mind already supplying thoughts he should _not_ be having at the moment, it was easy for him to have what was clearly the wrong reaction to his own arms being chained above his head. _Okay, but listen_ , his mind began as the Force seemed to ignore his pleas, _what if - seriously, hear me out - what if Obi-Wan were to use some sort of cuffs or rope, and you would have to take whatever he-_

“Artoo retransmitted it, Master,” Ahsoka spoke, thankfully cutting off Anakin’s inappropriate thoughts - inappropriate in subject and in timing. “Then we decided to come and rescue you.”

Obi-Wan took in the chains on his rescuers’ wrists as well as his own. “Good job,” he deadpanned. Despite their sarcastic delivery, the words still managed to send a shiver through Anakin, and he decided that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the Geonosians killed him at that moment.

—

After being clawed, stabbed, and charged at by the beasts unleashed in the arena, Anakin had managed to somewhat subdue the reek enough so that he, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan could sit astride it.

He didn’t have time to feel proud of this accomplishment, or even jealous of the fact that Obi-Wan was pressed up against Ahsoka instead of himself, because they suddenly found themselves surrounded by droidikas. Knowing that all they had was the reek below them, the Force signatures of the three Jedi melded into one similar feeling: defeat.

Their signatures sparked, suddenly, with surprise and then hope as they were surrounded with what seemed to Anakin to be the entire Jedi Order. Mace Windu, Shaak Ti, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Depa Billaba, Luminara Unduli, Barriss Offee - _hundreds_ of Jedi surrounded them, their ‘sabers ablaze and each taking up the beginning stance of their preferred forms.

Borrowing ‘sabers thrown to them by their comrades, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan were quick to join the fight, deflecting blaster bolts and destroying the droids who shot them. It was _thrilling_ to see Obi-Wan in action, to fight beside him. His perfect, controlled demeanor maintained itself in his graceful Soresu and Shii-Cho, but the curl of his lip and the mussing of his hair showed the extent of which he was exerting himself in the fight.

It was magnificent to watch; Anakin had to tear his eyes away so as to not get distracted and consequently shot in the head.

As the battle waged on, the Jedi found their numbers dwindling as a circle of droids closed in on them. Just as they were all pushed nearly back to back, the droids suddenly lowered their weapons.

“Master Windu,” a deep, sure voice boomed. Anakin looked up and narrowed his eyes at the figure: Count Dooku. The traitor must have been the one behind Obi-Wan’s capture. _And for it, he will die_ , Anakin vowed.

“You have fought gallantly,” Dooku continued, “worthy of recognition in the Archives of the Jedi Order. Now, it is finished. Surrender, and your lives will be spared.” Anakin gritted his teeth; he absolutely hated the smug confidence that dripped from the man’s words.

Windu seemed to be just as disgusted, snarling, “We will not be hostages to be bartered, Dooku!”

Dooku looked down at the group of surviving Jedi, although when his eyes finally landing on Obi-Wan, they remained there. The strange gaze made Anakin uneasy, itching even more to run his ‘saber straight through the count’s chest. Dooku seemed to be truly regretful as he sighed, “Then, I'm sorry, old friend-”

Before he could give the execution order, several gunships appeared in the sky, carrying too many armored men for Anakin to count. The ships, men, and droids began shooting at one another, a storm of blaster bolts raining down on the arena. The Jedi scrambled to climb aboard the any gunship they could, and Anakin made sure to follow Ahsoka and Obi-Wan onto one.

Catching his breath as the ship flew them out of the arena, Anakin turned to see Master Koon standing beside him. Anakin’s heart sank, his master’s presence a reminder of his disobedience, but he was also grateful to see him whole and alive.

“Master-”

“Are you all alright?” Koon spoke, regarding the three of them.

“We are, thank you, Master,” Ahsoka breathed, a thankful smile on her face.

“I cannot believe you came and that you came alone,” Obi-Wan chided her; unlike the other times Anakin had seen Obi-Wan reprimand Ahsoka, there was not amusement or poorly concealed pride. There was pure disbelief, and even anger. It made Anakin nauseous.

“I didn’t come alone, Master, I brought Anakin,” Ahsoka argued, and Anakin shot her a glare. He did not want Obi-Wan’s anger to be directed towards him, too.

“You know that’s not-”

Obi-Wan was cut off by blasters firing at their ship. _Great_ , Anakin thought, seeing that the battle seemed to follow them outside the arena.

Looking ahead as their ship dodged blaster bolts, Anakin called out, “Aim right above the fuel cells!” The armored men obeyed, and the towers fell, crushing several droids on the ground.

Over the sounds of the battle, Obi-Wan turned over his shoulder with an impressed smile and shouted, “Good call, young padawan.”

Anakin burned with delight, smiling even after Obi-Wan turned back to watch the battle. His smile immediately fell, however, when he caught the masked gaze of his own master. He didn’t have to lower his shields to know the Kel Dor was absolutely furious with him.

Could Anakin blame him? He had run off into an incredibly dangerous situation, despite the fact that he was grounded for doing exactly that. His master had asked for nothing but respect as his apprentice, and his repeated disobedience of his master’s simple request was nothing but disrespectful.

Before he could spiral any further into his pit of guilt, Obi-Wan shouted, “Look over there!”

Catching sight of the speeders, Ahsoka angrily responded, “It’s Dooku!”

Feeling nothing but rage at the sight and mention of the man who had not only killed innumerable Jedi, but who had _captured and threatened Obi-Wan_ , Anakin growled, “Shoot him down!”

The armored man flying turned to look over his shoulder. “We’re out of rockets, sir.”

 _He can’t get away!_ “Follow him!”

“We’re gonna need some help!” Ahsoka pointed out, looking between Dooku and Anakin.

“There isn’t time,” Koon spoke, eyes fixed on Dooku. “Anakin and I can handle this.” Anakin perked up at his master speaking his name, unsure if the hope he felt was misplaced. It’s not a good sign, Anakin thought, that his standing with his master was currently determined by whether or not he would acknowledge Anakin’s presence.

As they trailed Dooku’s speeder, the two ships following the count veered off and were suddenly behind the gunship. The ships shot at them, causing them to jerkily dodge each bolt.

Despite the chaos, it seemed to happen in slow motion, when the gunship hit the top of a sand hill and Obi-Wan fell out.

“Master!” Ahsoka shrieked. She looked at Anakin and Koon for only a moment, and Anakin recognized a change in her expression: she had made a decision. The next moment, Ahsoka was jumping out of the ship, tucking as she landed in the sand near Obi-Wan.

Functioning purely on adrenaline, Anakin peered out of the ship and watched as Obi-Wan’s body rolled violently across the sand. _Oh, Force, please let him be okay!_ “Put the ship down!” he commanded, keeping his eyes on the knight.

“Anakin!” Koon snapped, getting into Anakin’s personal space so that Anakin had to look at him. “Do not let your personal feelings get in the way!” He moved to the other side of the ship, eyes fixed on Dooku. “Follow that speeder,” he ordered.

“Lower the ship!” Anakin pleaded, unwilling to leave Obi-Wan alone. What if he was hurt? What if Ahsoka was hurt? Oh stars, he was going to be sick…

“I can't take Dooku alone!” Koon shouted, coming to stand before Anakin once more. “I need you!” The words would have shocked, even thrilled Anakin to hear, if the only thing he couldn’t think about was Obi-Wan’s screams as he fell, the way his body rolled on the sand. “If we catch him, we can end this war right now! We have a job to do!”

“I don't care!” Anakin responded without thinking. Looking over Koon’s shoulder, he barked, “Put the ship down!”

“You will be expelled from the Jedi order!” Koon shouted, his patience waning.

Anakin couldn’t find it in himself to care, couldn’t think past Obi-Wan. “I can't leave him!” he admitted. He had done his best to keep his attachment to the knight as secret as possible - which clearly wasn’t good enough, seeing as _everyone_ teased him for it - but his mind was stuck on _Obi-Wan Obi-Wan Obi-Wan_.

“Come to your senses!” Koon was exasperated, more than he had ever been in the six years Anakin had been his padawan. “What do you think Master Kenobi would do were he in your position?”

The question made Anakin pause, made him finally think. He was panting heavily, his eyes filled with tears and his heart plummeting into his stomach as he looked away from his master and to the floor. “He would do his duty,” he answered with defeated resolve.

He would. Obi-Wan would do what was best for the galaxy and face the count, end the war that had broken out. He would do whatever it took to protect the citizens of the Republic, even if it meant leaving a comrade behind.

Although, Obi-Wan was no comrade to Anakin. No, he was the suns and moons and stars that made up the galaxy. He was the warmth and glow of the Force itself. He was air and the trees and the rivers and the flowers that made every planet beautiful.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was everything. And because of that, Anakin would follow his example and do his duty as a padawan, as a Jedi, even if it tore his heart out of his chest.

—

Stalking in with their lightsabers ablaze, Koon with his striking blue and Anakin with his borrowed green, the two Jedi closed in on the count.

“You’re gonna pay for all the Jedi that you killed today, Dooku,” Anakin spat. _You’re gonna die for what you’ve done to Obi-Wan._

Softly, so only Anakin could hear, Koon instructed, “We’ll take him together. Go in slowly on the left-”

Anakin’s mind seemed to be stuck on one setting: act now, think later. The adrenaline from the gunship was still coursing through him, and everything now was fueled by images of Obi-Wan falling through the air and by his hatred of Dooku.

That’s why, despite his master’s suggestion, Anakin snarled, “I’m taking him now!” He could barely hear Koon’s shouts of, “No, Anakin, no!” as he raced towards the count. He didn’t make it very far, for at the flick of Dooku’s wrist Anakin was assaulted with blue lightning and shoved harshly into the wall.

He panted heavily, moaning and writhing in agony as Koon and Dooku battled before him. The pain coursing through his body was unlike anything he had ever felt before; his muscles twitched from the force of the shock to his system, his senses were fuzzy, his skin felt as though it were on fire.

Despite that, Anakin forced himself to stand when Dooku managed to strike Koon down with efficient swipes to the Jedi’s arm and leg. He lunged towards the count, shouting in equal measures of pain and anger. Dooku met the aggressive swing of his ‘saber with his own, green crashing against red.

“Brave of you, boy,” Dooku commended in a patronizing manner, “but I would have thought you had learned your lesson.”

Glaring at the count, Anakin retorted, “I am a slow learner.”

As he pushed Dooku’s lightsaber off of his own, Koon shouted his name and tossed him his ‘saber from his place on the ground. Anakin aggressively fought with both blue and green ‘sabers, but Dooku’s mastering of Makashi and Anakin’s inexperience with Jar’Kai allowed the count to quickly strike the green ‘saber out of Anakin’s hand.

Buying himself some time, Anakin allowed Dooku to press forward, slowly stepping back over a power line. With a quick swipe of his ‘saber, Anakin cut the line and caused the hangar to grow dim as the lights flickered out.

Eager to kill Dooku, Anakin raised his arms and striked a fierce blow, which the count easily blocked. Their ‘sabers clashed in a series of blows, each of Anakin’s growing more aggressive and less precise.

Then, he felt unimaginable pain in his right arm and his body went limp as it was flung in the air. He felt his back press against the legs of his master just before everything went black.

* * *

Cracking his eyes open, Anakin winced and immediately shut them again. Despite being a place of recovery and healing, as their name would suggest, the Halls of Healing were never a pleasant place to wake up in. The lights were too bright, the machines too loud, and the healers too incessant.

Anakin shifted in the bed, wincing as his body ached and begged for reprieve. He slumped into the bed, sighing in pain.

“Skyguy?” a voice spoke, cautiously hopeful. Anakin slowly cracked an eye open to see Ahsoka peering down at him, eyes red and puffy, cheeks wet. He looked her over, noticing numerous small cuts scattering her cheeks and arms.

_From the sand._

_Obi-Wan_.

His eyes snapped open and his adrenaline prevented the light from blinding him. He made to sit up, but was unable to, seeing as his body was unable and unwilling to cooperate. Just as he was about to ask about Obi-Wan, a figure stood behind Ahsoka, smiling in a pitying manner.

Anakin could not even feel annoyance at the philanthropy of the smile, only pure joy and relief at the fact that the person bestowing it upon him was Obi-Wan, and that Obi-Wan was alive and whole.

“We are glad to see you awake, Anakin,” Obi-Wan spoke softly, and Anakin warmed at the knight calling him by his name and admitting he was _happy_ to see _him_.

“Me too, Master,” Anakin croaked, throat impossibly dry. Noticing his discomfort, Ahsoka quickly raised a glass to Anakin’s lips. Anakin made to raise his arm to hold the glass for himself, but found he couldn’t.

Not because of the pain it caused, but because of the lack of feeling altogether.

Anakin frowned and looked down, seeing only the bed where his arm should be. He stared for long moments as his brain tried to understand what he was looking at, or rather, what he was not looking at.

His right arm was gone. He still had some of it left, the bandages concealed just how much, but it was gone.

Ahsoka must have realized what Anakin was thinking, because she set the cup down and exhaled shakily. “Skyguy…”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan cut her off gently. Anakin didn’t look up, not even when Obi-Wan said, “Let’s leave Anakin to rest,” not when Ahsoka said a quiet, “I’ll visit you later,” not when the pair left.

He just stared. At nothing, where there should be something.

“The Chancellor has offered the finest doctors from Naboo to come and construct a prosthetic for you,” a voice spoke from beside his bed. Anakin’s head snapped up to see Master Koon standing, looking down at Anakin with an unreadable expression.

“The Chancellor?” Anakin repeated, mind struggling to keep up with anything happening around him.

“Yes,” Koon answered simply, offering no further explanation. Long moments of silence stretched where the two simply regarded one another, and it unsettled Anakin to his core. He felt worse than he had the morning after his excursion to the lower levels.

This time, however, it did not appear that Koon planned on remaining silent. “What you did was horrifyingly unacceptable,” he began, voice upsettingly calm and level. “After what you and Knight Tano had pulled-” _Knight_ _Tano?_ “-I had thought you learned the dangers of such reckless behavior. I was able to arrive in time, just as I had then, but what if I had not? Surely you would be missing more than you already are.”

The words made Anakin recoil; they were honest, but callous nonetheless.

“Then, I had thought that we had come to an understanding. I did not ask for blind obedience, I did not ask for perfection, I did not even ask for you to like me or my teachings,” Koon said, his voice becoming more agitated and less level. “I simply asked for your respect, and you accepted my terms. Then, despite being punished - quite leniently, for the stunt you had pulled - you still managed to run off into danger. You, Ahsoka, and Master Kenobi could have all been killed. You are lucky to have made it out alive, with the injuries you do have.”

Anakin was barely holding himself together. He wanted to scream, he wanted to sob, he wanted to hide under the covers, he wanted to run away - to Obi-Wan, he wanted to sob in the man’s arms and beg him to mediate, to enter his mind until it was filled of nothing but Obi-Wan and peace and not Koon and his disappointment.

Instead, he sat silently as Koon continued. “You have disappointed and disrespected me, Anakin. You have broken my trust.” Tears and a pathetic sob did manage to escape Anakin at the words, and he bit his tongue to prevent any more from slipping out.

“The Council, however, has noted your bravery, quick thinking, and bravery on Geonosis. And, seeing as we now find ourselves in a war, we need all the leadership we can get.” Anakin frowned even as his lip quivered, confused by change of subject. The Council? War? What was Koon talking about?

“Once your prosthetic had been attached and fully healed, you are to be knighted and made General of the 501st Legion,” Koon explained. Anakin’s eyes widened in shock. He was to be knighted? After betraying his master?

And General? Was there really a war going on? He’d have to ask Ahsoka; he had a hunch that this conversation was coming to an end, and Koon wouldn’t be willing to talk to Anakin much afterwards.

“Congratulations, Anakin,” Koon said sharply, coldly. With that, he left the room. Left Anakin to weep at everything that had happened. He mourned his arm, and he mourned his relationship with Master Koon. Of course he was not the master he had wanted and never would be, but he was a kind and wise master. And Anakin has lost him.

Anakin weeped until he felt numb, weeped until he could weep no more. He laid in his bed, staring at what was left of his right arm, Koon’s words filling his being with ice.

He would be the best knight the Order had ever seen. He would prove he was not simply reckless, disobedient. He had to; not to earn Koon’s good graces, but Obi-Wan’s. He could not let Obi-Wan think of him the way Koon now did. As hollow as Anakin felt now, he would be absolutely devastated if he lost Obi-Wan, too.

No, he would prove himself worthy of the man, worthy of his attention and his affection. He would fight alongside Obi-Wan whenever possible to show how good he was at taking his orders, at protecting him, at being what he needed. He would be the prophesied Chosen One Obi-Wan believed him to be; he would get Obi-Wan to look at him the way he had after they meditated every chance he got.

And, he vowed, he would avenge both the man and himself. He would kill Count Dooku and bring Obi-Wan his head.

Drifting off to sleep, Anakin’s mind raced with all he could now do as a knight to prove himself to Obi-Wan. Maybe, just maybe, the man would finally regard Anakin as more than just his padawan’s friend, but as an equal, as a partner, as… more.

Anakin smiled, even as he succumbed to his exhaustion. He was no longer Plo Koon’s; he could now be Obi-Wan Kenobi’s, truly and completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh gettin kinda dark there, Anakin, don’t ya think?
> 
> also can you tell by Anakin’s annoyance at his Archives tasks that I work at a retail bookstore??? :)))) 
> 
> writing all of Geonosis was torture and I hope it read well… please let me know what y’all think so far!! all of your kudos and comments mean the world!
> 
> I hope y’all enjoyed! I’ll see ya with the next chapter :)


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